


Generosity

by Yeoyou



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 17:29:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12347283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yeoyou/pseuds/Yeoyou
Summary: Written for the first ficathon in December 2015.Prompt 1: "I want your body pressed up against my heart..."Prompt 2: "I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed..."Prompt 3: "and we made love how only poets and dreamers could..."This fic is a response to all three of the above.----This work was deleted by the host of the first ficathon for reasons unknown to me and without warning so I'm posting it again. If you've read it before and left a kudos, I'd greatly appreciate it if you left one again since they're all lost.





	Generosity

**Author's Note:**

> Unfortunately, I can't remember whose prompts prompted this fic so I can't gift it. If that's you or if you know/remember, please tell me!

  


After kissing Phryne, after finally making it clear how much he wanted and needed her, Jack had thought the rest would be simple. Glorious and exquisite, for sure. Maybe even poetic. But ultimately simple. He hadn’t counted on sudden nerves making his fingers tremble and his cheeks flush. He hadn’t expected how hard it would be to look Phryne in the eyes, those lovely eyes, once they were alone in her boudoir.

“What is it, Jack?” Phryne asked, running her long slender fingers over his lapels, her tone playful but with a hint of concern that did nothing to steady his fast beating heart.  
He cleared his throat, embarrassed, and then couldn’t find the words to explain. 

Explain why he was so nervous. 

Explain why he suddenly shied from her touch. 

Explain where all the passion had gone that he’d shown earlier.

His lack of response seemed to confuse Phryne even more. She’d seen him embarrassed before, she’d more than once flustered him out of all words. But this was new. She clearly sensed that, dropped the seductive tone, and looked him square in the eye.

“Jack. What’s wrong?”

He bit his lip and uncomfortably shifted his weight from one foot to the other.  
“I’m sorry, Phryne, it’s just…” he grimaced and finally blurted out “…I don’t want to disappoint you!” He blushed more intensely and stared down at his fingers, balled into fists at his side.

“Disappoint me?” she echoed, bewildered. “Why on Earth would you think that likely?” 

She stepped closer and ran a cool finger down his burning cheek. “The kisses have certainly not been a letdown, Jack.”

He swallowed and finally managed to lift his gaze towards hers. “Well…” he cleared out his throat again “…Rosie and I married very young and…” He broke off. 

Hopefully, she would infer the rest without him having to spell it out for her. Having to spell out how inexperienced he actually was when it came to making love to a woman. Especially in comparison to the no doubt very accomplished lovers Phryne had been with in the past. It wasn’t that he really begrudged her that experience but he couldn’t deny that it made him feel nervous. Inadequate. How could he, the plain dish so to speak, compare with the more exotic and daring tastes Phryne was used to? 

Luckily for him, Phryne was a very smart woman and there was no reason for him to put all those doubts into actual words.

He could see how the realisation dawned in her eyes, how a strange mixture of tenderness and pity crept into her expression. He didn’t want her to pity him.

“I see,” she replied, her delicate eyebrows arched.

Of course she did. He’d married young, then been sent off to war and afterwards he and Rosie had been unable to connect to one another anymore. Phryne knew him too well to suspect that he might have been unfaithful to Rosie even after they’d essentially separated. After Rosie had moved in with her sister. And once he’d been divorced, he’d already been in too deep with Phryne, his emotions confusingly tangled with hers, to seek out other romantic relationships. Although there had been opportunities.

“Jack…” She somehow managed to imbue his name with both remonstrance and compassion. Phryne closed the distance between them, a distance he’d put there, with a single determined step. She cupped his face in both hands, carefully but with enough force to make sure he would look at her. 

“The first time doesn’t have to be perfect.” She’d lowered her voice into more gentle regions. “Perfection is something to be strived for, to be worked at. And, personally, I look forward to that work very much. For now…” She kissed him on the lips, no more pressure than a butterfly’s wing. “…it’s enough that we’re both here.” Another light kiss. “That we both want it.” A grin flashed across her lips. “And that, hopefully, nobody will dare interrupt this time.”

She leaned even closer and whispered into his ear. “Take what you need, Jack. It’s all right. We have time for the rest later.”

Jack closed his eyes for a brief moment. He felt himself melting under Phryne’s hands, under her kisses, and under her generosity. 

More than anything, he’d been afraid to let go. Constant reserve being who he was. Cautionary, afraid to hurt anyone. He’d seen what he was capable of in the war, and he hadn’t liked that side of himself. He’d sworn to never let it out again. Self-control became his mantra. His marriage had probably fallen victim to it. To his inability to show all of himself, to let the anger and shame and terror out that he’d experienced. Ironically, he had done it in order to spare those around him. Especially Rosie. Only Rosie hadn’t understood the boundaries he’d erected. But eventually, she’d come to accept them and had moved on. Phryne, on the other hand, had simply barged through until he felt more exposed and more naked than ever before. Until all the walls tumbled down in this one moment, when Phryne offered herself to him because she understood. Because she cared for him. He felt, finally, free.

We have time.

The promise that ground his last resistance into meaningless dust.

He found himself gripping her arms and then turning his head to catch her lips in a hungry kiss. A short laugh escaped her and she responded eagerly to his kiss, pressed her slim body against his without reserve. He felt heat tingle in every part of his body, especially in those parts long ignored. Blood rushing in his ears and heart pounding, he let his hands wander, explore her body, caress soft skin and touch that silky black hair. It was a novelty for him to kiss a woman with such short hair, to kiss a woman who wore trousers and wrapped her leg around his hip without the slightest hesitation. He wasn’t used to kissing a woman so passionate. But he certainly enjoyed it.  
Her deft fingers stripped him easily of his clothes, while his fumbled with her fashionable blouse. He snarled in frustration and had to keep himself from simply tearing the fabric away from her. But Phryne might not approve of his lack of sartorial respect, and Miss Williams most certainly wouldn’t. Phryne laughed and finally decided to help him. He was glad, even though it meant that she stopped running her fingers through his hair, stopped touching his bare skin.

“There’s a hook at the back, Jack,” she explained laughing. He would have been embarrassed if he hadn’t been so focused on getting Phryne out of those frustrating clothes.

Between the two of them, they eventually managed to accomplish that feat and Jack was finally, finally able to fill his eyes with her. The pale skin almost glowing in the semi-darkness, those small but deliciously soft and round breasts, the firm stomach. He licked at his lips and couldn’t stop gazing. She’d been irresistible enough in that painting but to see the living flesh sent showers of heat through his body. The hungry, playful look in her eyes toppled his last defences.

“Phryne…” he breathed, overcome by her beauty and readiness and by his own sheer need.

He stepped closer, arms wrapped around her and half pushed, half dragged her towards the bed. She laughed breathlessly and ran her hands over his back, grabbed his behind.

There was nothing shy about her and he loved it.

Once she was safely deposited on the bedsheets, he carefully crawled on top of her, holding his weight with his elbows and knees. She somehow seemed both more fragile and less breakable than Rosie and it confused him and aroused him at the same time. 

There was something very open and free and inviting in her face. He covered it with kisses, breathless kisses that sometimes missed the spot he was aiming for. But he wanted to taste every inch of her skin anyway and so didn’t mind. Neither did Phryne seem to care, stealing her own opportunities for kisses in between his own, running her hands all over his body, all over, and driving him crazy. 

His own hands explored her, running down her throat, over her collarbone and down to her breasts. He filled his hands with her, thumbs circling her erect nipples until she moaned into his kisses. He pressed his hip against her thigh, hot flesh against creamy white one. He knew he couldn’t wait much longer but he wanted to touch her first. 

Feeling how moist she was, made his throat go dry. He swallowed, hard, and moaned by her ear.

He rubbed her, eliciting short moans of pleasure that sent sparks through his brain, and then slipped one slick finger into her.

She cried out his name and for a moment the room seemed to collapse around him. He couldn’t hold back anymore, couldn’t wait to feel her around him.

There was still a little piece of restraint left in him, a piece he clung to with all his concentration as he slowly pushed himself inside her. He gritted his teeth, swallowing the deep moan that burnt his throat. Marvelling that he didn’t spontaneously combust, he pushed deeper.

Phryne’s hands were all over him, grabbing him, fingers digging into warm flesh.

“Jack! Come on, Jack”, she urged him on and he felt a brief surge of fear as his grip on that last remnant of restraint crumbled. 

But she wasn’t breakable, she was slick and open and wanting him.

His thrusts went deeper as he lost himself in her, lost himself in the rhythm and the heat. And when he finally came, after an eternity that was entirely too short, her arms held him, steadied him.

He felt empty and full to the brim and could only murmur her name over and over again until it seemed to lose all coherence, all sense. Except that it was the only sense anything had ever made.

It was only after a while that he realised that she kept whispering his name, tenderly, while stroking his hair and face. He was dimly aware that she hadn’t climaxed, that it hadn’t taken a lot of time for him to reach his. He started to feel embarrassed again, to feel guilty, but Phryne’s tenderness cut through these feelings without mercy, pushed them away.

When he looked into her eyes, there was no disappointment, no mocking, no impatience. And so what could he do other than to return her smile and kiss her, gratefully.

Her sentiments were obviously less chaste as she kissed him back. She grinned and ran a finger down his cheekbone.

“I see great potential in you, Jack Robinson.”

“Phryne, I…” she stopped him with a finger on his lips. She’d probably sensed that he had been about to apologise, seen it in his face.

She smoothed out the furrow on his brow. “No frowning, Jack. Not here. And don’t you dare apologise for anything. Promise me that.”

He looked at her, keeping silent for a long while. He searched for any clue in her face that belied her words but there were none. Phryne was completely honest. And so he complied.

“I promise, Phryne.”

“Good. Then what do you think about getting some work done while you’re here?” She threw her head back, a wide grin stretched across her face, grabbed his hand and shoved it between her legs.

  


**Author's Note:**

> I restored all the comments I still found, which, of course, were also lost when this fic was deleted.


End file.
